


you should be scared of me (who is in control?)

by SafelyCapricious



Series: only the moon howls [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic, BAMF Sansa Stark, F/M, Sansa Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26094841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: Oberyn isn’t entirely sure what to expect when they make port. He’s kept his arms around Sansa for far longer than he should have, but she hasn’t objected. He isn’t entirely convinced she’s even noticed, which should sting his ego, but she is so pleased it’s hard to be upset.Now slightly wary? That he’s managing just fine.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand, Oberyn Martell/Sansa Stark
Series: only the moon howls [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606012
Comments: 26
Kudos: 386





	you should be scared of me (who is in control?)

**Author's Note:**

> Title still from Halsey's Control.
> 
> This is part of a series, so you should definitely read the first three if you want this to make much sense.
> 
> And...I think this is the end? That being said, there are some other things that didn't get included due to POV or timing issues, so I might do things including those eventually? 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who continued to comment, you're always my motivation to actually complete things. Please feel free to let me know if you have any questions! <3

Oberyn isn’t entirely sure what to expect when they make port. He’s kept his arms around Sansa for far longer than he should have, but she hasn’t objected. He isn’t entirely convinced she’s even _noticed_ , which should sting his ego, but she is so pleased it’s hard to be upset.

Now slightly wary? That he’s managing just fine.

There’s a single girl -- woman, he supposes, but she’s slight and he’s unsure of her age -- and two pony sized wolves waiting for them on the end of the pier. There’s no obvious familial resemblance, at first, between her and Sansa -- but then she’s smiling and Sansa is fair flying off the ship to her arms and with them so closely together he can see similarities in the bones of their face and the danger behind their teeth.

He escorts Ellaria off the ship, and they wait as the sisters hold each other and shed a tear or two. The two wolves bounce around the both of them and sniff at Sansa aggressively. Behind him he can hear Ser Daemon organizing the crew and getting their baggage moved where necessary.

“Who’s this lot, then?” Lady Arya Stark demands, finally pulling away from her sister enough to stare balefully at him and where his men are disembarking behind him.

One of the wolves has come over to sniff at him and Ellaria, but seems to find Ellaria more appealing. His lover is brave, and reaches a tentative hand to pet the beast and -- and the wolf seems to go boneless and collapse at her feet. It’s still tall enough that Ellaria can easily pet its head, which seems to be what it wants as it nudges again.

“Arya,” Sansa says, voice lighter than he’s ever heard it, even as he thinks it’s supposed to be an admonishment.

“What,” Arya doesn’t ask, flatly, and then she’s baring her teeth and he thinks he can hear a growl coming from her. “I can’t be worried about the _southerners_ that brought you here?”

“Arya,” Sansa says, and it sounds exactly the same to him, but it causes Arya to glance at her in surprise and blink and then she’s turning to them with her eyes narrowed and a thoughtful expression stretched across her face.

The expression doesn’t stay for long, however, and Arya is turning her back on them and their boat and turning her attention wholly on her sister.

“They were kind enough to bring me here, after the Baratheon’s broke hostage rights,” she says, calmly petting the massive wolf at her side.

“They did what.” Arya doesn’t ask, but Sansa doesn’t seem willing to answer either, and after another moment she turns back towards him, eyes narrowed. “Do you know what they did? Tell me.”

Even if he was inclined to answer her, which he thinks he would be out of self preservation if nothing else, Sansa’s sharp head shake convinces him not to quite easily.

“That’s my story to tell,” she says, even as Oberyn choses to hold out his hands to show the increasingly angry Arya that he means no harm, “and I will only tell it once.”

“Sansa,” her sister protests, upper lip peeled back in a snarl, “I want to make them pay.”

Sansa stills and looks into the woods for a moment before giving a sharp nod. “You’re not the only one, I’m sure, but our brothers and mother will want to hear the story as well, and I’ll only tell it the once.”

“But —“

“Arya,” Sansa says again, and Arya’s mouth clicks shut and she gives a sharp nod. There are certainly aspects of this conversation he’s missing, and while a part of him desperately wants to understand he’s also slightly chilled by the possibilities. Ellaria has becoming increasingly distracted by the wolf who is lolling at her feet, tail kicking up a distressing amount of dust.

“Is everyone good to travel then? No use delaying, we’ll go now, yes?” Arya is already striding off the dock and rubbing her hands together.

Sansa smiles after her and leans down to kiss the wolf at her side.

“Prince Martell, Lady Sand, I hope you’ll accept our hospitality and join us at Winterfell. I am certain my brothers and mother will wish to thank you for returning me to them,” her voice is just as soft as it was when she was admonishing her sister and even though he knows there are teeth underneath he still can’t hear them.

“We would loath to part with you before seeing you safely in your mother’s arms, Lady Stark, as long as you do not object to traveling with us further,” Ellaria says — her tongue always more gilded than his, and he can almost see some of the frost melt off of the younger woman.

“I think,” she says, cocking her head to the side in exactly the same way as the wolf with her does, and Oberyn thinks they may be blinking in tandem now too and he’s not going to think overly much about that, “that we may find the answers you seek in Winterfell.”

“We would follow you to death itself, if necessary, my lady,” he manages after a moment, heart beating overly fast in his chest.

Her smile is more teeth than it should be. “Oh, I don’t think we’ll be requiring that of you just yet my prince.”

***

There is a buzzing under his skin. It’s been growing as they drew closer to the seat of power of the Starks, and now that they’ve entered he can almost hear it and it’s making his teeth itch. No one else seems effected, or if they are they’re hiding the effects better than he himself is.

He’s twitchy, feeling like he’s going to jitter out of his skin at the slightest provocation. And he keeps seeing things out of the corners of his eyes. But still, he tries to maintain some aspect of reliability — of steadiness — as Sansa lays her arm over his right before they enter the Great Hall where he assumes her family is waiting for them.

There are four men — though one may still be considered a boy, it’s hard to tell under the number of furs he’s wearing — and one woman waiting. The woman looks remarkably similar to Sansa, and Oberyn can immediately see where she’s gotten her poise from. However, there’s something fragile about the woman in a way he’s never seen with Sansa, a softness that he thinks he’s seen Sansa pretend to have but never fully succeed at. This woman either is softer or better at hiding it, and he’s not sure which one is more terrifying.

The buzzing continues like a hiss trapped in his bones.

“Sansa,” the woman says, and holds out her arms, and Sansa squeezes his arm slightly where her hand is tucked, and then gracefully unfolds and flings herself at the woman.

Arya stalks around them and suddenly what Oberyn had thought to be piles of fur start to move and — there’s seven or eight of the giant wolves in the room as they’re all coming to sniff at Sansa even as three of the four men surround her. The last one hasn’t gotten up from the chair he’s reclining in and he’s staring at Oberyn over steepled fingers.

Oberyn rubs his tongue against one of his eye teeth and thinks he should have a headache from all the buzzing, but it’s not there.

Their voices all overlap as they exclaim and welcome her back, and he can’t catch much of it over the buzzing and then he’s meeting the eyes of the man in the chair and they were blue but now they’re not and the buzzing is getting louder and —

Oberyn blinks and he’s staring at stone and timber and there’s a wolf and a tongue and — he’s on his back staring at the supporting beams of the great hall and one of the great wolves is licking him again and — he tries to wave him off with a hand but his body feels oddly disconnected.

And then Sansa’s face is leaning over him and she’s smiling and there’s a howl behind the smile but he finds himself wanting to match it and he bares his teeth at her and she’s laughing and then she’s go this arm and is helping him to his feet.

He allows himself to lean on her, more than he should — though it doesn’t seem to phase her and she walks him easily over to a chair by her brother in the chair and lowers him down. Ellaria is hovering around behind Sansa but she doesn’t look worried she looks _giddy._

“They rescued you then,” one of the men speaks, and Oberyn can see a circlet of wolves in his hair and so this must be Robb. “Arya said the Baratheon’s broke hostage rites?”

“Get him some honey and ice wine, Rickon, he’ll need for what comes next I think,” Sansa says, and the youngest of the brothers races out of the room. Sansa never stops looking at him and Oberyn finds himself trapped in her gaze even as he is now aware of what’s going on around him. His bones feel liquid, but it doesn’t hurt. And the buzzing isn’t gone but it’s different and it feels right.

“Sansa, tell us what happened,” Arya demands from where she’s sitting on the table, and Lady Stark swats at her youngest girl.

“I’ve taught you better manners than that,” she says, and one of the other brothers says something back and there’s laughter and Oberyn is having trouble following the voices again even as he’s captures in the deep blue of Sansa’s eyes.

“You’re sure he’s okay?” Ellaria asks, and her he can hear fine.

“He’ll be fine,” Sansa assures, and touches fingertips to his cheek and he wants to chase them with his tongue but he knows better than to do that with her family around. “It’s happening very quickly for him, all at once, since he has been ready but the south is poison and the magic is gone — but he’s here now and he’ll get his birthright.”

He can hear the words she says, even as her petal soft lips shape each sound, but he doesn’t understand, and then her hand is dropping away and she’s straightening and he wants to cry at the loss of her.

“The Baratheon’s whipped me,” she says, “and stripped me, and made me bleed.” She looks around the room and Oberyn wants to drop to his knees and pledge his service to her. “They killed our father for voicing what should be obvious to anyone who has spent any time in the capital.” Her lip curls back and there’s a sound like thunder in the room and he realizes that it’s a growl — coming not just from the wolves but also from each of the Starks. “There is no magic in the south.”

“We’ll kill them all,” one of her brother’s vows, and there’s an army of snarls behind his voice, “and magic will ride with us.”

“Winter is coming,” she agrees, and Arya tilts her head back and howls at her sisters words and then the rest are joining in.

Oberyn finds himself hissing in agreement.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I realize this never got full on shippy but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm counting the pre-shippy and we can all consider that they probably go on to have little wolf-snake babies, ya'know? 
> 
> If you have questions or things you wanna discuss, find me [on tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/capriciouswrites). I'm super bad at responding but I always get there eventually.
> 
> Not edited enough, let me know if anything looks wonky!
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
